For as long as I can remember I had perfect white sheets on my perfectly tussled bed. I love the look of crisp white sheets against naked skin. And white sheets in the morning with the sun and blond hair and newspapers strewn about is pretty hot.
But then, some time ago, the white sexiness fell from grace.
Drastic action was taken.
Paint it black.
Too masculine? Perhaps.
But I imagine these are the simple lines of sheets in which Howard Roark and Dominique Francon would drown. And all I’ve ever wanted to be was a perfect Dominique Francon.
Oh and I needed a change.
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